


tongue tied

by rippedgloves



Series: There's nothing but a play thing [3]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 14:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rippedgloves/pseuds/rippedgloves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And this is Harry.  </p><p>Harry, the kid he picked up somewhere once and he doesn’t really know how he managed to keep for so long. The kid that worked his way into Nick’s life and work and friends and found a place so close to him Nick really can’t remember how his life used to be without him. Harry, who’s wonderful and unique and who Nick adores an embarrassing amount. It’s quite pathetic, really, how smitten he is with Harry, to the point where his coworkers and listeners have noticed and keep making fun of how he just can’t stop talking about him—they made it into a feature in his show, for Christ’s sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tongue tied

**Author's Note:**

> and part three is here! now from nick's POV! hope you like it :) feedback is greatly appreciated as always.

( _take me to your best friend's house | normally we're making out_ )

 

*

Okay, so the truth is –and Nick would rather have his nudes leaked than admit this out loud—he’s pretty nervous right now.

It’s not like there’s really anything to be nervous about, he’s just about to have sex with his mate who he’s been sort of been dating for less than a month. This is fine, he’s done this before, it’s nothing new.

Except that this is Harry Styles, the most famous wanker in the world, who happens to be in a weirdly kinky relationship with his band mate and seems to be used to being manhandled and pushed around. Nick is not sure he can live up to that.

He’s pretty sure he’s had more sex than Harry, too, considering he’s been having it since Harry was kindergarten—and he really shouldn’t be thinking about Harry as a kindergartener right now—but Harry and Louis are _different_ and Harry is used to a certain dynamic in bed that Nick is really unfamiliar with. And sure enough, he likes taking over and being in control of the situation, he’s naturally bossy, but he doesn’t think he knows how to translate that to the bedroom.

And this is _Harry_.

Harry, the kid he picked up somewhere once and he doesn’t really know how he managed to keep for so long. The kid that worked his way into Nick’s life and work and friends and found a place so close to him Nick really can’t remember how his life used to be without him. Harry, who’s wonderful and unique and who Nick adores an embarrassing amount. It’s quite pathetic, really, how smitten he is with Harry, to the point where his coworkers and listeners have noticed and keep making fun of how he just can’t stop talking about him—they made it into a feature in his show, for Christ’s sake.

Nick thinks he’s entitled to be at least a bit nervous, given the circumstances.

It hasn’t even been that long since he’s last hooked up with someone, a week tops, but he’s squirming in his seat a couple of minutes into the kiss.  Harry’s a great kisser, Nick has known this for a while, but there’s a difference between lazy make outs on his couch after work or sneaky frantic sessions in the bathroom at the station and _this_.

There’s a difference because they know it’s heading somewhere this time.

Harry’s determined; he has both of his legs hooked behind the chair and is rubbing against him shamelessly in a way that’s making Nick embarrassingly hard. And they’ve only just started.

He kind of wants to slow this down, thinks he might need a minute, because everything’s going too fast and his head is sort of spinning and Nick doesn’t really work that great under pressure, and he’s going to kick himself if he comes in his pants before things even get started. Harry would never let him forget about it and he’d rather not have to move countries to avoid the embarrassment.

He manages to control himself, if only barely, and when Harry gets off of him and starts heading for his room –his actual room, not the one he and Louis have been sharing for months now—Nick has a moment to catch his breath and relax some.

The mood has changed by the time they’re in the bedroom; the air feels charged, so tense Nick can feel the jokes jamming on the way up his throat because he needs to make things less uncomfortable. Harry, the little asshole, smirks as he stops by the sofa he has next to his dresser and rests against it, his hip cocked and his arms spread invitingly. Nick wants to curse him, maybe even slap him, because it’s not fair that he feels so confident all the god damn time; it’s almost annoying, the way he seems to be comfortable in any situation ever, no matter the context.

Harry starts undoing one of the buttons of his shirt, and that’s Nick’s cue, that’s how he knows when to step in.

“Ah, no. Who said you were allowed to undress yourself yet?” He doesn’t sound as confident as he hopes for, but Harry’s eyes light up and a smile spreads on his lips before he gets all serious and mutters an apology.

“You better behave yourself from now on,” Nick adds, Harry’s reaction giving him enough assurance to continue.

He closes the distance between them, licking his lips before leaning in to take Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth, and that’s how he notices the way Harry’s eyes have darkened, how his cheeks are flush and his pupils dilated.

Harry’s hands are still on his buttons, even though he’s stopped undoing them, so Nick slaps them away and starts unbuttoning the shirt himself, deliberately taking his time. He lets his hands roam over Harry’s chest, stroking over the tattooed skin, before leaning in and licking the stripe right underneath his left collarbone. He feels Harry shiver when his tongue reaches the 17 BLACK, and for a moment he wonders if he’s crossing some boundaries, if this is one of Tomlinson’s things that he’s not supposed to be touching, but the way Harry squirms beneath him makes him forget about it.

He pushes Harry on the bed and crawls on top of him, undoing his own shirt and tossing it somewhere on the floor behind him. He leans down to kiss Harry again, this time more frantic, letting his hands drop down from Harry’s chest to his waistline.

Harry’s hips buck up when Nick undoes his trousers and slides a hand in his pants, and he has to bring his other hand to hold Harry’s hips down and stop him from moving.

“Behave, Styles.”

The words roll off his tongue with ease, he finds. It’s not—it doesn’t just come naturally, but he thinks he can really go for it, if he sets his mind to it; he’s certainly bossy enough.

A hand reaches for his fly out of nowhere, and he has to sit up on Harry’s thighs to be able to get a good hold of his wrists and stop him for doing anything. Harry grins sheepishly at him, his eyes bigger and darker than Nick’s ever seen him, ducking his head before looking back up with an innocent smile,

“May I?”

Nick nods once before letting go, leaning back a bit so Harry has good better access. He undoes Nick’s belt and pulls down his fly before Nick can even think of what’s happening, and then he’s sliding his jeans down his legs and grabbing him by the thighs to pull him closer so that he’s straddling Harry’s chest, and Nick’s breathing hitches.

He refuses to let himself be nervous. He’s too old to be intimidated by a bloody eighteen year old—and one that he’s seen wee, puke and even slobbering all over Caroline’s mouth while trying to kiss her. He’s good at this, he’s good with people, and most of all he’s good with Harry, so he allows himself one second to be overwhelmed by the sight of Harry’s too pink lips so close to his own cock before he takes control of the situation again.

“Hands off,” he orders when he sees Harry’s hand reaching to close around him.

Harry gulps but obliges, leaning in the rest of the way with his lips parted, taking the head of Nick’s cock in his mouth, and Nick really hopes that the gulp is a good thing and that all those times Harry bragged about deep throating weren’t just talk.

He takes both of Harry’s hands –which are sort of hesitantly resting on Nick’s thighs—by the wrists and pulls them over Harry’s head, against the wall while he gets used to the feel of his mouth all around him.

Harry licks around the head for a while, letting his tongue slide down the underside and almost all the way to his balls before moving back, until Nick starts getting impatient and rocking his hips forward. He gets the hint right away and takes Nick in all the way, and it takes all of Nick’s self-control not to start thrusting right there.

Turns out Styles can deep throat, which is a brilliant surprise, and Nick takes a moment to admire the way Harry’s lips stretch around the base of his cock, his cheeks flushed and his eyes closed, his skin shining with a thin layer of sweat.

Nick waits for about a minute until he can tell Harry’s comfortable with it before he starts rolling his hips forward, meeting his mouth halfway through, and he doesn’t know if it’s the way Harry’s tongue flicks on his tongue or the way he’s sucking with just the right pressure but Nick can’t help the way he loses control and starts fucking Harry’s face.

Harry makes a noise on the back of his throat, and gags once or twice but doesn’t pull away or squirm out of Nick’s touch, so Nick continues to forcibly shove his cock down Harry’s throat until he can feel the heat building in his stomach spreading down to his thighs, and then he’s pulling away and coming all over Harry’s face and lips.

“See? I’ve got ways of marking you too,” he says a moment after, while he’s coming down from his orgasm, and Harry’s eyes go crazy with lust and he pulls Nick down so he can kiss him, Nicks own cum mixing with their saliva and getting all over their faces.

“You filthy little thing,” he adds after he’s pulled away and off Harry, when he can take a proper look at him.

Harry’s curls are a mess on top of his head –even messier than usual—and his lips are swollen and redder than ever, shiny with cum and saliva. There’s more cum dripping from his forehead and some spread on his cheeks and Nick was never really one for cum play but just. Bloody hell. Harry’s got his trousers halfway down his legs and there’s a big wet stain on his pants where he’s leaking. All just from sucking him off. If a certain DJ wasn’t already occupying most of his thoughts, Nick thinks he could fall in love.

He uses a corner of the sheets to wipe off Harry’s face, which earns him a grin, and then moves to properly get their clothes off. It takes a while for him to fully undress Harry and then himself –and seriously whose idea was it to invent such tight jeans, seriously?— but finally he finds himself sitting on Harry’s bed, fully naked and with Harry looking at him expectantly with his cock hard as a rock and stars in his eyes, staring at Nick like he’s the best present he’s ever gotten.

It’s not that his refractory period is normally that long, really, but Nick’s not eighteen anymore, so it takes him by surprise to find that he’s half hard again just from looking at Harry –and he hopes this is an effect Harry has on everyone and it’s not just his embarrassingly stupid crush on the boy.

He leans back on the bed and pulls Harry over him, their bodies aligned almost perfectly –and Nick tries not to be self-conscious about it because he’s not like that, but he’s taller than Harry and Harry is always going for people smaller than him, like Cazza and that model girl and Tomlinson, so he has a fleeting moment where he’s scared he might not be what Harry wants.

Then Harry rubs against him and their cocks slide together and who the fuck cares if he’s taller or shorter than Harry, anyway.

He flips them over so he’s on top of Harry again, Harry’s legs hooked behind his back, reaching with a hand between them so he can stroke both of them at the same time. The size difference is not that much, not enough to make him insecure about his manhood anyway, but he feels the weight of Harry’s cock on his hand and the way his fingers don’t touch around it and sure, he’d seen it before and heard about it tons of times –he’s pretty sure they’ve talked about it on the show at least once, but there’s something different about having it right there beneath him that makes Nick’s mouth water a bit. He would slide down and get a taste if he weren’t so freaking hard again already.

Harry is soft and pliant under his arms, letting Nick guide their pace and following his lead with every single touch. It’s almost unnerving, the way Harry just tilts his head as soon as Nick gives his neck any attention, or the way his hands travel to wherever Nick starts to guide them, but mostly it’s just the way he looks up at Nick expectantly after he does anything, waiting for confirmation or praise or something, like nothing pleases him more than pleasing Nick. It’d probably make Nick nervous if he weren’t getting off in the process.

Nick pulls of when Harry starts thrusting up more frantically, and there’s a small pool of pre-come on his stomach where his cock is leaking. He has to bat Harry’s hand away when he sees it sliding from his chest and towards his cock.

“Didn’t give you permission to come just yet, did I?” He asks, and Harry ducks his head apologetically.

“Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“Good boy,” Nick says with a smirk, and Harry beams at him.

Harry’s eagerness makes prepping him quite an easy task. He slides two fingers in at once, and Harry hisses in pain but his face contorts into a pleased smile, so Nick figures it’s a good thing that it hurts. He’s about to add a third one when he changes his mind and pulls his fingers out, getting up from between Harry’s legs.

He slicks himself up properly after rolling the condom on –and tries not to think too much about how insistently Harry placed the wrapper on his hand—and then he positions himself and gives Harry a moment to breathe before pushing in.

He goes halfway in and then stops, waits until Harry unclenches his hands from the sheets and then slides the rest of the way. It takes him a moment to adjust to the tightness, and another for Harry to get used to him, but as soon as the boy nods he speeds up, thrusting deeper and harder each time.

They build a good rhythm, getting faster and faster with each thrust, and Harry’s quiet but very responsive. His cock is still leaking into his stomach—and only then Nick stops to think how long it’s been since Harry’s hard, and how he hasn’t come yet—but he’s being good about the whole ‘not touching himself’ thing.

Nick is close pretty soon, which is unusual but not necessarily bad, and he can tell that Harry is too by the way he’s biting his bottom lip and the way his nails are digging hard on Nick’s back.

“Can I?” he asks, nodding down, “Please?”

And Nick isn’t sure if he means coming or touching himself, but he shakes his head, “Not yet.”

There are tears on Harry’s eyelashes about to slide down his cheeks, and he’s thrusting up desperately, meeting Nick halfway. Nick only lasts a moment before he feels bad and he takes Harry’s hand into his hand.

He comes right before Harry, white noise filling his ear and his mind going blank for a moment, heat spreading down his thighs and up his torso and making his eyes shut close and his toes curl.

He’s too sensitive to stay inside Harry as he comes, so he pulls out and squeezes him hard, twice, before taking him in his hand. Harry’s too big for Nick to go down all the way so fast, but he bobs his head a couple of times before focusing on the head and sucking hard, and then Harry’s coming down, thick and warm down his throat. He sucks him through it, then pulls off and licks him clean until Harry is squirming away because the oversensitivity is too much.

Nick plops down on the bed for a moment, presses a kiss to Harry’s shoulder and lets out a shuddery breath.

“Damn, Styles,” he says, “Tomlinson’s a lucky man.”

Harry smiles but stays quiet, and if there’s one thing Nick can’t stand is silence, so he sits up on the bed and puts a hand over his stomach, “I’m hungry, want something?”

He slides off the bed and heads for the kitchen without hearing Harry’s reply, but he grabs two bags of crisps and a water bottle just in case before going back to the room.

Harry’s still in the same place he left him, only he’s curled on himself and has his arms wrapped around his chest protectively. Nick rushes to the bed and puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder, pulling away as soon as he notices the young boy is shaking.

“Styles, what’s going on,” he asks, trying not to let the concern show on his voice, “Harry, are you okay?”

Harry doesn’t reply, and then squirms away when Nick tries to pull him closer, and it’s not until Nick tries to turn him around to look at him that he realizes that Harry is crying.

“Harry, Harry, what’s wrong?”

No answer comes from Harry, who only turns back on his side so Nick can’t look at his face, and it takes a moment for the coin to drop and for Nick to understand what’s going on.

He reaches for his phone and goes straight to the T on his contact list, not hesitating to press call,

"I think I broke your pet"


End file.
